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“Oh, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but his manners are shit.” I grin at the familiar face, greeting me with a warm smile.
Logan wraps an arm over her shoulders fondly. “Ida, I believe you’ve met Penelope.”
Her outfit is equally as funky as the day we met. The mustard-yellow bandana rolled behind her ears, keeping her wild gray hair out of her face, is the same color as the retro floral tank top tucked into her bright purple shorts.
The bite sized pup leaps from my arms and into hers.
“It’s nice to see you again, Penelope.” She adjusts her red-rimmed glasses and then winks at Logan cheekily. “You’re just in time to watch the sunset.”
He bumps me with his elbow. “We would have been here sooner, but someone made us late.”
“I wasn’t exactly prepared for a night out.”
“I’ll say,” he says, and I shove him, blushing furiously at his suggestive tone.
Ida’s laugh is loud and bursting with personality, making me instantly comfortable. “My sunset soiree is a laid-back affair. It’s impossible to be late and more impossible to want to leave.”
I’m grinning like a fool, following her footsteps with my head on a swivel while I take in the view.
“Ida has a thing for themed parties,” Logan says as we approach the set up.
Her ruby-red lips twitch. “Party planning was my full-time gig once upon a time.”
“Among many other things,” he teases.
“Eh. Never saw the fun in working at the same old desk till I croaked. How do you think I met so many amazing people?”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” I say.
Ida leans in close, dropping her voice as if to tell me a secret. “Want some unsolicited advice from an old coot like me? Never let someone put you in a box when you were meant to shine.”
Logan’s lips twitch when he sees me beaming, fully enamored with the woman.
Straight ahead, a wall of sand serves as the backdrop for a circular sitting space. It’s intimate, yet large enough to seat twenty, and carved deep into the sand. A sheer canopy sways above a wooden table nestled in the center, with string lights casting a soft, ethereal glow over the men and women sitting before an assortment of arranged place settings.
Declan sits amongst Ida’s friends, entranced by a man with dark skin, wearing a cream-colored scarf-style skirt, and gold accessories. The man shares a story, waving his arms around animatedly, and ripples of laughter echo through the cove.
But he’s not the only one dressed eccentrically. All of Ida’s friends have some sort of fun, quirky aspect about them that makes them standout.
Palm trees arch above the little hideaway, and the bluffs jutting out across the water touch the fading pink and purple sky.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Ida,” I murmur.
With nothing but the symphony of nature chattering in the trees and a man plucking soft chords from a guitar by a crackling fire, it’s downright mystical.
Ida waves at her friends when they spot us, and an older man in a white shirt, paired with suspenders and khaki shorts, wraps her in a big hug.
I smile behind my hand when he grabs a handful of her butt, and she pokes his chest.
“You haven’t even seen the best part,” Logan says, gesturing toward the shore.
Several kids from the group home splash through the water, chasing each other with glee pealing from their chests.
Ricardo’s playing volleyball with the older bunch across a net lit up with gold lights, while my sister and Dorthea dance and twirl with Mable in the sand.
Confused, I twist back to Logan. “Carrie said she was out with a friend?”
“I asked her to fib,” he says.
